Intersecting Lines
by julesmonster
Summary: The story of how one event impacts four lives, and one man brings two others together. Slash: Chase/House, Chase/Wilson, House/Wilson.
1. Prologue: Stacy

**Intersecting Lines**

**By Julesmonster**

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary: **The story of how one event impacts four lives, and one man brings two others together.

**A/N:** Okay, so here's another fic that has been sitting in storage on my computer for months, almost but not quite finished. Well, now it's complete. It's got a bit of everything: humor, angst, romance and just the hint of a plot. It has three chapters after this short prologue. Hope you all enjoy! Jules

**Prologue: Stacy**

_**August 1997**_

"Why didn't you call me?" James Wilson demanded. He had rushed back from his conference the moment he had learned that House was in the hospital and why. His friend had asked him to come and he wasn't about to let House down, he owed him too much. And he'd arrived just in time to stop the two women in House's room from going against House's expressed wishes. Now, he had to fight to make them see his way. The woman in front of him had been crying, but her tears had dried up now and she was angry.

"Because I knew you would do something to make the situation worse!" Stacy hissed at him. "Things were going just fine until you got here. Is this about… that night? Because I thought we were going to just forget about it!"

"This has nothing to do with that! You were going to do the surgery and to hell with House's wishes!" Wilson all but shouted at her. "If I hadn't gotten here, he would already be under the knife, wouldn't he?"

"Dr. Wilson…" Lisa Cuddy tried to placate the irate man. "As his medical proxy, Stacy has the right—"

"And that's another thing," Wilson turned to Stacy with accusing eyes. "You are not his proxy. I am."

"Excuse me?" Stacy asked bewildered. "Since when?"

"Since yesterday afternoon," Wilson said. "He called me and told me that he had the hospital's legal aid come in and change his proxy because he didn't trust that you wouldn't try something like this. The documents should be in his bedside drawer."

Dr. Cuddy opened the drawer and sure enough, there were legal documents there naming James Wilson as Gregory House's medical proxy. "He's right. I'm sorry Stacy. Legally, my hands are tied; I have to abide by Dr. Wilson's decision."

"House wanted to wait it out and we are going to wait it out," Wilson said. He took a seat beside House's bed and prepared to stand guard to prevent them from doing anything to House while he was in a medical coma. The infarction had done extensive damage to his leg and the delay in treatment had caused even further damage. They had removed the blockage, but the toxins that had built up in House's leg were now circulating through his body, causing extreme pain and could possibly kill him. Greg believed that was preferable to losing his leg, or—as Stacy and Cuddy had tried to do—losing a large part of the muscle tissue and risking permanent pain.

Of course, there was still the possibility for long term pain and muscle damage with this treatment, besides the fact that it could kill him. But if it didn't kill him and if he could make it through the worst of the pain while the toxins were clearing from his body, he had a shot at full recovery, something that neither of the other two options offered.

"He could die," Stacy said in a defeated voice as she collapsed into the seat on the other side of the bed. Wilson looked up and noticed that Cuddy had left them alone.

Wilson looked at her. "He could. He could also make a full recovery. Either way, it is his choice. If you had done it, if you had gone through with the surgery, do you really think you would have kept him?"

"But he would be alive," Stacy said. "Even if he hated me, he would be alive. He's still going to hate me because I tried."

"I won't say anything," Wilson told her. Then regretfully, "It wouldn't be the first time I kept something secret that would hurt him. But I can't guarantee that he won't hear about it anyway."

Stacy groaned. "Hospitals are horrible for gossip. And Greg always seems to know what's going on. It's like he's got some sort of super power to know things he shouldn't know."

"He's just nosey," Wilson said with a fond smile. "Always into everyone's business. He sees all of us mere mortals as puzzles he needs to solve. And the more information he has, the easier it is to solve the puzzle."

"He's a genius," Stacy said sadly. "And like all geniuses he's got more issues than I can count. This twisted value he's put on a limb, making it more important than his life… I just don't get it."

"It's not just about keeping his leg," Wilson told her. "It's about keeping his life. His quality of life, I should say. This way has the greatest risks, but it also has the best chance for him to have a normal life when it's all done. Amputate, and there's no pain, but his whole world is changed. Remove the damaged muscle and there is a high probability that he will have chronic and debilitating pain for the rest of his life, not to mention the loss of mobility removing that muscle would cause. This way, he either wins or loses. If he's right, the worst that he'll face is a lingering ache, similar to a pulled muscle. He'll still have full mobility, and the pain will be manageable."

"And if he's wrong, he dies," Stacy said. "It's a hell of a gamble to take."

"Sometimes you have to lay it all on the line," Wilson said.

"How can you so calmly discuss his death?" Stacy wondered. "He's laying there, in a coma that he insisted would help him heal, but he may never wake up. And you can sit there and talk about it like it has nothing to do with you? Like you're discussing one of your cancer patients."

Wilson glared at her. "He's my best friend. Of course I would be devastated if he died. But I have faith in House's understanding of medicine and his own body. If anyone has a shot of pulling this off, it's him. And I prefer to be optimistic, to hope."

Stacy sat back in her chair and sighed. "I'm not sure I know what that is anymore."

**GHGHGHGHGH**

"Are you sure the toxins are out of his system?" Stacy asked Dr. Cuddy. They were standing around House's bed once again after several days of tense watching and waiting. He had made it through the detoxification process and it hadn't killed him.

"His blood work shows that the toxins are gone," Cuddy said. "Are you ready for this?" Wilson and Stacy both nodded and Cuddy injected the medicine into the IV that would bring House back to consciousness. "It'll take a few minutes."

Wilson watched the heart monitor as House's pulse began to slowly elevate, indicating that he was getting closer to awareness. Then his breathing pattern changed and soon his eyes began to flutter. When the familiar deep blue of House's irises came into view, Wilson let out a sigh of relief.

"Hey," Stacy said quietly. "How are you feeling?"

Greg blinked once at her and then turned to Wilson. "Thank you."

Wilson looked at him sharply. "For what?"

"For doing it my way," House said in a rough and tired voice.

Wilson nodded and then repeated Stacy's question. "How are you feeling?"

"Pain is manageable," House said. "Very tired."

"So sleep," Wilson said. House nodded once and closed his eyes.

Once they were sure he was asleep again, Stacy turned tearful eyes to Wilson. "He wouldn't even look at me."

Wilson was at a loss, but Cuddy spoke up. "Sometimes coma patients do remember what happens around them when they are out. It's possible he heard us discussing the surgery."

"So I've lost him anyway," Stacy said as she fell into her seat.


	2. Part One: House

**Part One: House**

_**August 2003**_

Dr. Robert Chase walked through the halls of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and wondered what he had done in his life to deserve the torture that was his daily existence. He hadn't kicked puppies or tripped little old ladies. He had always eaten his vegetables and tried to be polite even under the most extreme circumstances. He thought he was a good person overall. So why was he now being tormented by his very sadistic new boss, Dr. Gregory House?

He'd been at PPTH for two weeks now and had never once heard a positive word from House. In fact, half of the time the man completely ignored him. The other half he made Chase run his errands and do busy work while spouting a barrage of insults and derogatory remarks. They hadn't had a single patient in the entire two weeks that he'd been there, and Chase wondered why he had been hired. He was certified as an intensivist and was only months from completing his second specialty in surgery.

He'd given that up in order to work for Dr. Gregory House, a man whose reputation had even reached Australia. Chase remembered reading an article in one of the medical journals about one case that he had diagnosed. The patient had been to seven different specialists with various complaints. Each specialist had diagnosed her with something different and treated the symptom, but not the underlying cause. It wasn't until House got to her that the full picture was revealed. For the first time, all of her symptoms were taken into account, not just the ones the fit the doctor's preconceived notion of what was wrong with her. The article had gone on to detail the treatment and eventual cure of the woman, but the underlying message of the article was clear. Too often, doctors treat only one aspect of a patient and therefore misdiagnose or completely miss the real problem. Chase had been so impressed that he had jumped at the chance to actually work with the man, even if it meant leaving his surgery certification incomplete.

Now, after working his ass off to become a doctor, after internships and residencies and specialties. After working for two years in one of Australia's best ICUs Chase was fetching grapes for a doctor who was more than capable of fetching them himself. And he was listening to that same man deride his age, his country, and his appearance on a regular basis.

"It's just not worth all this shite," Chase muttered to himself, unaware that Dr. James Wilson had come up alongside of him.

"He can be a bit of a bastard," Wilson conceded.

"A bit?" Chase snorted in disbelief. "He's got me fetching grapes. Grapes! We haven't seen a single patient in two weeks. He belittles everything I do. It's no wonder the others have all left after a day or two!"

Wilson chuckled. "The fact that you've stuck it out shows House that you are tenacious. The fact that you bow to his whims even though he's sure he's pissed you off intrigues him. He's diagnosing you. He does it to everyone. Think of time spent with House as a stress test. He pushes boundaries and crosses lines all the time with the intention of figuring out what makes each of us tick. It doesn't get any better with time, but you begin to mind it less."

Chase stopped in the middle of the hall and Wilson stopped to face him. "I'm not sure I want to stick around long enough to mind it less."

"Well, at least stay until you've cured your patient," Wilson said.

"We have a patient?" Chase asked. "When? Who?"

"Get the grapes and go back," Wilson advised. "He'll be more receptive to your ideas if you have grapes."

Chase shook his head. Maybe everyone here was crazy.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

A week later, Chase had a whole new perspective on Dr. Gregory House. The man was a genius. His methods may be unorthodox, but his results were amazing. They had treated two patients since his talk with Wilson. Both of them had been real puzzles which, if they had not solved them, would have led to the death of the patients. He saw now how House worked: diagnosing was more like detective work than medicine. Gather the clues and put the pieces together. Sometimes you had to use trial and error to get a better picture of what was happening. Sometimes you just observed how introducing a catalyst changes the situation. But however he did it, House had saved two women and Chase was proud that he had been a part of that.

House walked into the conference room from his office and looked at Chase, who was getting ready to leave for the day. "Drinks. You're driving."

Chase raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Yes sir."

"And for that remark, you're buying too," House said. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed towards the elevator. "Well, are you coming?"

"I'm coming," Chase muttered as he grabbed his own bag and hurried after his boss. A few minutes later, House was staring with disgust at Chase's car, a beat up 14 year-old Honda Civic hatchback. "It's what I can afford."

"We'll take my car," House decided and led the way over to a 2003 Dodge Challenger painted in midnight blue with white racing stripes. "Get in."

They drove to a bar not far from the hospital and House parked the car in the back of the lot, away from other cars. Once inside, Chase followed his employer to a small booth near the back. They ordered drinks from the waitress and then settled back to watch the barflies around them.

When their drinks arrived, House turned to Chase and asked, "How old are you?"

Chase was rather surprised by this question. "You've read my CV and my personnel file. You know how old I am."

"Just indulge me," House said.

"Okay," Chase said and took a long sip of his whiskey. "I'm 27."

House nodded and set down his bourbon. "In Australia, in order to become a doctor it takes 4 years of undergrad, 2 to 3 years of med school, a year as an intern, 1 to 3 years as a resident, and 3-6 years for a specialty. That's a minimum of 11 years. And you had more than two years into a second specialty when you came here. So how old were you when you started college? 14?"

Chase smiled wryly. "Actually, I did begin my undergraduate work at 14. I completed my secondary education a couple years early and my father decided I needed to keep going. But it wasn't premed. I was sent to a seminary by my father. I stayed there for a year before I quit and went to do my undergrad in premed. It usually takes 4 years for an undergrad degree, but I finished mine in 2. I had some courses which transferred over from seminary, and I loaded up on courses to finish sooner. They don't charge more per credit if you take more than full time, so it was cheaper in the long run. So I finished my undergrad degree when I was 18. I spent two years in med school, again taking as many courses as they would allow. I spent a year each on my internship and residency. And I received my certification as an intensivist two and a half years ago. I started on my surgery specialty then, while I worked nights in the ICU. I didn't take any shortcuts."

"No, you just steamrolled through the system at a breakneck speed," House agreed. "You make it sound so simple…take a few extra courses each semester, take summer classes and anyone can graduate early."

"It wasn't all that difficult," Chase said with a shrug.

House snorted and threw back the last of his bourbon. He held up his glass for the waitress to see and then turned back to Chase. "For you, boy genius, I suppose not."

"I'm no genius," Chase denied. "I just work hard."

"That's not what your IQ tests say," House taunted. "You took the test your second year of med school, right?"

Chase frowned. "That's right. You got my IQ test results? How? They never even let us see our results."

House smirked. "I never reveal my sources. Now, your scores say that you really are a genius. Mensa candidate all the way."

"I've never even seen my IQ scores," Chase muttered. He smiled at the waitress who had brought them another round and then went back to scowling at House. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Just wondering why you would leave your surgical specialty training with only 4 months left to go in order to work with little old me," House said. "I mean, I know I'm irresistible and all, but you didn't know that then."

"I read an article about a patient that you saved," Chase said. "It focused on the need to view all the symptoms from an objective standpoint in order to make accurate diagnoses. I agreed and wanted to learn more."

"Bullshit," House said. "Oh, I believe you read that article, but that is not the reason you packed your bags and flew half way around the world. What were you running from?"

"I wasn't running from anything," Chase denied.

"Okay, then let me rephrase the question," House said. "Who were you running from?"

Chase shot back his whiskey and felt the effects almost immediately. Two doubles on an empty stomach was more than he was used to. "I wasn't running away. I just…"

"Yes?" House prompted.

"I just didn't want to live in his shadow any more," Chase finally admitted.

"Your father," House said. "The great Rowan Chase."

"Yeah him," Chase said and looked for the waitress. Once he spotted her and ordered another round he turned back to House. "You've known all of this for weeks. Why wait until now to ask? Why not ask when you interviewed me for the fellowship?"

"Because I wanted to see for myself," House said as he finished his own bourbon just in time for the waitress to replace it. "I wanted to see what demons drive you to be better than everyone else. I wanted to see if you could tough it out or if you would give in after a few well chosen insults. I wanted to see if that super-polite exterior was real or if it hid anything else."

Chase looked petulant as he said, "And was it hiding anything?"

"Anger," House said. "_Lots_ of anger and hostility. I figure it's towards your old man. After all, he left, didn't he? And then your mom died and he came back and tried to run your life again."

Chase started to get up. "I don't want to talk about him."

House reached across the table and kept Chase from leaving. "So don't. Talk about something else. My curiosity has been satisfied for now."

Chase eyed House warily. "But not for good." He sighed and sat back. "Wilson said I would learn to mind this less with time. Somehow I doubt it."

"Wilson's been giving you advice?" House asked. "That's not very sporting of him."

"I know I'm going to regret asking," Chase said, "but what does that mean?"

"It means, we had a little bet going as to how long you would stick around," House said bluntly. "I didn't think you would last more then two weeks. Wilson said you'd stick around for the duration. He cheated though."

"And you didn't cheat?" Chase asked. "You made me your errand boy for two weeks!"

"Because I'm a bastard," House said. "That's not cheating. That's just life."

Suddenly, Chase found the whole situation hilarious. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the absurdity of their conversation or a combination of the two, but soon he was bent double as the laughter broke free. For long minutes he struggled to regain some semblance of composure. When he finally was able to sit up straight again, House looked at him and said, "You're weird." This just sent him off into another fit of laughing.

It took some time, but Chase eventually calmed down. "So what is it with you and Wilson? Are you lovers?"

House nearly choked on his drink. "Why would you think that?"

Chase shrugged. "The way you talk to each other. The way you talk _**about**_ each other. The facts that I've never seen either of you with a woman or heard you talk about a woman. Other than to comment on Cuddy's breasts, that is."

"We're both straight," House said. "And Wilson is married. This one's name is Julie."

"This one?" Chase asked. "How many have there been?"

"Let's see, first was Sam," House said. "I never met her. I met Wilson when he was going through that divorce. Next came Bonnie. Now Julie. So three wives. Numerous girlfriends, before, during and after."

Chase nodded, getting the picture quite clearly. "What about you? Where are the exes in your life?"

"Just one for me," House said. He knew he must have been drunker than he thought because he never talked about Stacy. "Five years together. Didn't work out in the end. Wanted different things."

"Like what?" Chase asked.

House scowled at the memory. "I wanted to keep my leg and she want to cut it off."

"There's got to be a story there," Chase said. "She wanted to cut off your leg?"

"I had an infarction," House said. "The doctors misdiagnosed and fucked around for three days until the toxins had built up to a dangerous level. I wanted to process the toxins naturally. It was my best shot at keeping my leg. She wanted to take the leg off, and spare me the pain and make sure I didn't die from the poisons. They removed the clot and did things my way, but the pain was too bad. I asked them to put me into a medical coma to ride out the detoxification. As soon as I was out, she went to Cuddy and they were going to remove the dead muscle tissue to prevent the toxins from going through my system. Wilson got there just in time to stop them."

"The likelihood that you would have been left with debilitating pain on top of the muscle death should have made that option unacceptable," Chase said. "I once treated a man who had a similar infarction and the surgeons removed the dead muscle tissue. I saw him years later. He was addicted to vicodin and he still could barely walk from the pain."

"In my mind there was only one possible option," House said. "Either I would be cured or I would die. Stacy couldn't stand to take risks like that. She wanted to even the odds out. And she was willing to overrule my wishes to do it her way. She waited until I was in the coma and ordered the surgery. But I had given my proxy to Wilson so he was able to stop them."

"And you were right," Chase said. "You lived."

"And I can walk with very little pain," House said. "Nothing that a little Tylenol won't help."

"So what happened to Stacy?" Chase asked.

"I woke up and remembered what they were going to do," House said. "I was out but I could hear them and I knew what she had tried to do. I refused to speak to her. I was so angry. She betrayed me."

"She was scared," Chase said.

"So was Wilson," House argued. "But he still abided by my wishes."

"And if you had died, how horrible do you think he would have felt?" Chase asked.

"Not as bad as I would have felt if they had done that surgery," House retorted. "Besides, I lived. I was right."

"You're always right," Chase said dryly.

"What about you?" House asked. "Did you fit any long-term relationships into that hectic schedule you set for yourself to become a doctor?"

"One or two," Chase said.

"Which is it," House demanded. "One or two?"

Chase knew he was going to regret this. "Two."

"Come on. Spill it. I told you my horror story," House said.

Chase sighed. "Okay, the first was when I was still an undergraduate. I was 15 and he was 18."

"A little old for you… wait. He?"

"Yes he," Chase confirmed. "And he was a little old for me, but we worked well on some level. We were together for two years. Then he went to New Zealand to work and I went to med school and it was over. We parted on good terms."

"It's just like Romeo and Juliet," House said dramatically. "What about the second one?"

"The second was when I was a resident," Chase said. "She was a resident as well and we hardly saw each other because of our schedules. We moved in together too soon and when we were finally able to actually spend time together while we worked on our specialties, we realized that we really didn't even like one another. But I think we were too lazy to do anything about it."

"That's terrible," House said with a touch of sarcasm.

"Well, it seemed so at the time," Chase said. "I found her fucking a friend of mine in our bed. That was the catalyst for change. I'm glad it happened now, but it wasn't a happy moment in my life."

"A cheating partner never feels good," House said. "But it's possible to get past it if the relationship is worth saving."

"You sound like you speak from experience," Chase said. By now they were both on their sixth drink and the words were coming more easily, truths falling from normally reticent lips. The waitress had stopped waiting for them to call for another round and just brought them by regularly.

"Stacy slept with Wilson," House said.

"I thought you said you could salvage a relationship," Chase said.

"I did," House said. "I'm still friends with _Wilson_. _**That**_ relationship was worth saving."

"So you didn't just break things off with Stacy because of the leg," Chase said. "She betrayed you in other ways."

"No," House denied. "Like I said, I could have lived with that, but the total disregard for my wishes in regard to my health… well, it wasn't worth saving after that."

"So it was a combination of the two?" Chase asked.

House nodded slowly. "I suppose. Why are we here again?"

"You wanted to grill me about my father, the bastard," Chase said.

"Oh yeah," House slurred. "Why's he a bastard?"

"He dumped Mum and me," Chase mumbled. "Left me to take care of a dying alcoholic when I could barely take care of myself. Then wanted me back when she was dead. Wanted me to do things his way. I told him to fuck off! And then I did it on my own. Showed him."

"That why you're broke?" House asked. "You drive a really shitty car."

"Can't afford better," Chase said. "Maxed out the loans to get through school since the bastard wasn't helping."

"What a tosser," House said. "That's what you Brits call 'em, right?"

"Not a Brit," Chase scowled. "I'm an Auzzie."

"Not the point," House said. "Tosser. You call 'em that?"

"Yeah, sure," Chase said. His accent was more pronounced the drunker he became. "He's a tosser and I wear pants under my trousers. All very proper English."

"I don't," House said with a sly smile. "I go commando. Wanna see?"

Chase snorted with mirth. "And you're the straight one."

"What?" House pouted.

"You go around offering to show your arse to every man you meet?" Chase asked. "'Cause that doesn't sound very straight to me."

"Didn't offer to show my ass," House denied petulantly. "Just offered to show you my lack of pants as you Brits call 'em."

"And I'm not gay, but I sleep with men," Chase laughed. "It's all semantics. You ever sleep with a man, House?"

"Nope," House said. His head was now leaning propped up by his arm on the table. Chase wasn't looking much better. "Had one kiss me though."

"Did you like it?" Chase asked, now sobering up slightly. This was information worth remembering tomorrow.

"Sure," House said and waved his free hand as if to indicate it was no big deal. "A kiss is just a kiss."

"Not true," Chase said. "Could you feel his stubble rubbing against your chin, your cheek, your neck? Were his lips more solid, more insistent than any woman's lips? Did his body feel hard against yours? Did you get hard from his taste, his scent, his touch? Did you want it to go on and on? Did that scare you?"

House sat up straight, trying to avoid the thought that Chase might be right. "Gotta go to the bathroom."

Chase watched him leave and smiled to himself. This was probably the stupidest thing he had ever contemplated, but he was just drunk enough not to care. He stood up and followed House to the men's room. House was scrubbing his face with cold water when Chase found him. He walked up behind the older doctor and pressed his body close, his cock pressed into the crease of House's buttocks. House froze for long minutes, but eventually, he stood up and let their bodies press together as Chase wrapped his arms around House's waist. Their eyes met in the mirror over the sink.

"What are you doing?" House asked, but his voice was husky and low.

"I have no idea," Chase admitted, but he turned House around to face him anyway. Now their bodies were pressed together front to front and Chase felt a shiver run through each of them. He leaned up and captured House's lips in a kiss. It was just as he'd described, rougher and harder than any kiss between a man and a woman, but it was hotter too. There were teeth and tongues and pain and pleasure all wrapped up together in one erotic package.

House pulled away, breathing harder than he should be after just one kiss. "Gotta pay our tab and call a taxi."

"Together?" Chase asked. House just nodded.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

The morning light was harsh in House's eyes when he woke. His head was pounding but at least he wasn't nauseous. Then he tried to move and realized that he wasn't alone. Oh shit. Chase. He'd fucked Chase last night. The memories flooded back into his mind like a river. What had he been thinking?

"Too late to go back," Chase said through a yawn. "Already buggered me. And enjoyed it too."

"I…" House stopped. Had he? He recalled sweat and heat and flesh moving against flesh. And the tightest, hottest sheath around his cock that he had ever felt. Yep. He'd enjoyed that. "Oh."

"No need to panic," Chase said. He was sitting up now, searching for his clothes, which had been scattered around the bed. "I'll not tell anyone. And we don't ever have to talk about it again if you don't want. But if you want to do it again, I'd definitely be up for that."

House lay back in bed and watched the beautiful young man dress in his typical unhurried way. Even in a medical crisis, Chase seemed to mosey along at his own pace. He was as fast as he needed to be, but never seemed rushed. And god the boy was beautiful.

"I don't think I would mind a repeat," House said. "But…"

"But you don't want anyone to know," Chase finished for him. "That's fine. Didn't think you were my true love by any stretch of the imagination. But you are a hot fuck. So no worries. Just, let's not get quite so wasted next time. I'd be willing to bet that you're good for more than one go when you aren't drunk."

House chuckled at the Aussie's brash and forthright manner. He was never like this at the hospital. "I think I like you better this way. You should drop the false politeness and let your true feelings show."

Chase smirked. "You sure about that? Because I can be a sarcastic son of a bitch when I want."

"I think I can handle it," House smirked. "By the way, Cuddy's insisting I hire two more Fellows. I've got an interview with one next week. So you may not be my only duckling soon. Can you handle the competition?"

"Bring it on," Chase grinned. He was fully dressed now. "Though I doubt any of them last much longer than the others. You've gone through, what, six fellows since I came? I'm surprised she's making another attempt so soon. Well, gotta run if I'm going to be showered and dressed before my boss gets to the office." Then he was out the door.

House smirked and sat up. This new development could be interesting.


	3. Part Two: Wilson

**Part Two: Wilson**

_**March 2005**_

"I hate you sometimes," Chase muttered. They had just had hot, borderline violent sex and it had done much to release the anger Chase had been feeling towards House. House pulled him closer into his arms and they laid there for long minutes in silence. "Why did you push? I told you how things are between my father and me. Why did you have to press it?"

"Because I'm a bastard," House said unapologetically. He was thinking of the information he had discovered about Rowan Chase's health. "I need to tell you something. I noticed some things while he was here. And I asked him about them."

"What things?" Chase asked, curious despite himself. It was his father.

"Radiation burns," House said. "And so I got curious and started digging. He wasn't here for a conference. He was here to see Wilson. He's dying. Lung cancer. He's only got months to live."

Chase closed his eyes. "Why didn't he tell me? Why are you the one telling me this?"

"He asked me not to tell you," House said. "I honestly thought about keeping it to myself, but… Well, if we weren't fucking I probably would have."

Chase chuffed a dry laugh. "I believe that."

"What are you going to do?" House asked.

Chase shook his head. "I don't know. Talk to him first and see from there."

**GHGHGHGHGH**

"Vogler is a piece of shit," House growled as he slammed his fist into his desk. "He wants me to fire one of my team!"

Wilson looked sympathetic, but he was more concerned with House keeping his job than he was about the three fellows. "You need to do as he says. He could cause a lot more trouble for you if you don't."

"He can't fire me," House said. "He'd need a unanimous vote from the board."

"And how long do you think that would take to get?" Wilson asked. "He's bought and paid for the board."

"You and Cuddy are on the board," House said. "You would never vote to fire me, would you?"

"Of course not. But he'll oust me from the board and possibly my job if I stand in his way," Wilson said reasonably. "He's got a stranglehold on the board and this hospital. You need to watch how much you piss him off."

House looked thoughtful. "No, I need to find a way to undermine him and get him out of here."

Wilson shook his head. "You haven't heard a word of what I've said, have you?"

"I heard you," House countered. "I just don't agree. Lying down and taking it is not something I can do. I'll either beat this guy or go down fighting."

"You are going to take the rest of us down with you," Wilson sighed.

House studied his friend for a long time. "Do you really want to work in a place where the profit is more important than the patients? Do you want to work for a man who thinks nothing of screwing sick people over as long as he makes a buck? Because I don't."

"So why not just quit?" Wilson asked.

"Because that's what he wants!" House told him. "If I quit, his way is free to fuck everyone over. That's why he's so adamant about getting me out of here."

Wilson snorted in disbelief. "Everything is always about you, isn't it? At least if you quit, the rest of us would still have jobs."

"I'm not going to quit," House told his friend. He walked over to where Wilson was slumped against the wall and put a consoling hand on his shoulder. "We're going to beat him."

Wilson sighed and gave a half smile to his friend. "Somehow, I believe you."

**GHGHGHGHGH**

"So you're firing me?" Chase practically shouted as he paced back and forth in front of House's desk. House was sitting calmly, playing with that damned red and gray tennis ball as if he hadn't just fired Chase. "Just explain to me why."

"I'm not _**really**_ firing you," House told him. "You wanted to take time off to spend with your dad. I need Vogler to think I'm complying with his demands for the time being. By the time you get back here either Vogler will be gone or this department will. If Vogler is gone, I'll rehire you. If the department is gone, it won't matter when you were fired."

Chase huffed, but sat down. "When?"

"This week," House said. "I have to let him know who I've chosen before Friday."

"He's been trying to get to us, you know," Chase said. "He's approached me three times offering to keep me on if I give up information about you. I'm sure he's made the same offer to Foreman and Cameron."

House just smiled. "I know he has. But he isn't going to get what he wants by turning my ducklings against me. Are you okay with this? I can fire Cameron if you don't want to do it. But I really thought you wanted to spend a couple months with your dad before he dies. Bonding and forgiveness and all that other bullshit."

Chase rolled his eyes at House's typical cynicism. "I do. I don't like this, but I'll go along with it. You promise to rehire me when everything is settled?"

"I promise," House said with atypical sincerity. "After fucking for a year and a half, I'd like to think I can count you as a friend. I don't screw over my friends. Torment them, yes. But never actual harm. I don't have enough to toss them away carelessly."

Chase nodded. "Alright. I'll make arrangements to fly out this weekend. You can fire me whenever is convenient."

**GHGHGHGHGH**

_**June 2005**_

"Chase has been subdued since he came back from Australia," Wilson commented one afternoon as he and House were having their lunch out in the courtyard.

"His father died," House said. "Of course he's subdued. I'd be subdued if my father died and I hate the prick. The death of a parent is a sobering event. It reminds us of our own mortality."

"His mother died when he was young, didn't she?" Wilson asked.

"He was 14," House said. "She died just before he finished his secondary school. Then his father sent him off to seminary a few months later."

"His mother had just died and the man didn't think that a 14 year old boy would need the comfort and support of his father?" Wilson asked with disbelief. "I hate to speak ill of the dead, but what an ass!" House shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. "Have you talked to him about what happened?"

House rolled his eyes. "His father died. He buried the man. He settled his estate. He came home. That's what happened."

"There has to be more to it than that," Wilson insisted. "He must be grieving. He's probably just closing off his emotions. That's not healthy."

House sighed. "He's not broken, but you are welcome to try and fix him if you want. I have better things to do with my time." Like get that sweet ass into my bed before the night is out.

Wilson was quiet while they finished their sandwiches. Eventually, as they were throwing their trash away, Wilson turned and said, "I think I'm going to invite him out for drinks tonight. Maybe that will help him share his feelings. Why don't you come with us?"

House snorted. "I'd rather not spend an evening listening to you try to make a man talk about his feelings, if it's all the same to you. Besides, there is a Monster Truck show on cable tonight." It was better than nothing, since it looked like Chase was not going to be available.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

"Wilson asked me out for drinks," Chase said to House as they were gathering their things to leave for the day. "Any idea what that's about?"

House chuckled. "He wants to get you to talk about your feelings."

Chase groaned. "Bloody hell."

"Buy him drinks with a lot of rum in them," House advised. "He can't hold his rum. He'll be drunk before you can get too aggravated. Maybe if you can ditch him early enough, you could stop by tonight?"

Chase grinned. "No promises, but I'll see what I can do. Don't wait up. I'll let myself in if I can get away. Oh, by the way, how did that date with what's her name go?"

"Michelle?" House smirked. "We had dinner, went back to her place, and fucked. It was nice, but we agreed that it would be a one time thing. Totally incompatible. What about you? Anyone new to tell me about?"

"Well, I told you about the two men while I was in Oz," Chase said. "Haven't found anyone that catches my eye since I got back. Then again, it's only been a couple days."

Just then, Wilson walked into the office and looked back and forth between Chase and House. "You two are being awfully chatty. Anything I should know?"

"Just discussing Foreman's attitude," Chase said. "He blames me for the entire Vogler debacle. Never mind that I was the one who was fired."

"He's just got his panties in a twist because he thinks he has to compete with you for Cameron's attention," House said derisively, insulting both of the absent ducklings with one go.

"Like I'd ever even consider touching that," Chase snorted. "You ready then, Wilson?" The other doctor nodded. "Right then. We're off."

"Chase," House called out as they were leaving. The blond stopped in the doorway and looked back. "Remember what I told you."

"I got it," Chase said with a roll of his eyes.

Once they were down the hall a ways, Wilson looked over at the younger doctor. "What did he tell you?"

"To play nice and share my toys," Chase deadpanned.

"Right," Wilson drawled. "I think maybe you have been spending too much time with House. Though I'm not sure how that could be since you were half way around the world for months."

They caught the elevator and Chase turned to Wilson. "Tell me what happened with Vogler. House keeps clamming up and it doesn't seem like anyone else really knows much."

Wilson smiled. "Not here." He waited until they were safely ensconced in his Volvo before he spoke again. When he did, admiration and pride were dripping from his voice. "After you were fired, Vogler thought he had beaten House into submission. He backed off and left House to his own devices for a time."

"Big mistake," Chase said. "House can be dangerous if he has enough time to work through his plans."

"Exactly," Wilson grinned. "Vogler went about his day to day, and House began collecting information on him. Everything from where he went to elementary school to when he last had his cholesterol checked. You know how he does."

"Bloody insane how he gets his hands on those things," Chase said. "He once got my IQ scores from med school. I had never even seen my IQ scores."

Wilson chuckled. "Well, Vogler wasn't expecting House to dig quite so deeply into his life."

"What did he find? Skeletons he could use to blackmail the son of a bitch?" Chase asked eagerly.

"Better," Wilson laughed. "He found Vogler's Great Aunt Ida. Now Miss Ida and Vogler's now dead grandmother had raised him and she wasn't at all impressed with the things that House had shared with her. I was lucky enough to be there for the reveal, and that woman called him on the carpet for everything from his questionable ethics in his pharmaceutical business, to his bullying tactics at the hospital. When this sweet little old lady grabbed Vogler's ear and pulled him from the room, I knew we had won."

"That must have been quite the sight," Chase chuckled.

"Well, that wasn't quite the end," Wilson said. "Vogler resigned from the board, leaving his donation in tact, but on his way out, he paid a visit to House. I'm not sure exactly what House said to him since I was outside the office, but Vogler looked like he was going to explode. I thought for sure House was going to end up with a broken jaw at the very least. Instead, Vogler straightened his jacket and his tie and walked out of the office without another word."

"You think House had some other information?" Chase asked.

"It's more than likely," Wilson shrugged. "But, like you, he won't tell me anything."

They arrived at the same bar that House had taken Chase to almost two years before. Chase smiled at the memory, and that smile widened when Wilson chose to sit at the very same booth. Without bothering to ask Wilson's opinion on the matter, Chase went to the bar and ordered two Zombies. It had dark and light rum, along with apricot brandy, hidden in a fruity looking cocktail that Wilson wouldn't suspect.

"So, what's this about?" Chase asked after bringing the drinks back to the booth.

Wilson took a long drink of the cocktail through the straw and his eyes widened with surprise. "Oh. That's really good. What's it called?"

"A Zombie," Chase said with a smile. "Glad you like it. I used to drink these when I was in med school. I was feeling a bit sentimental when I ordered them."

"Understandable after spending so much time home recently," Wilson said.

Chase watched as the other man's drink swiftly disappeared through the straw. Wow. That drink could be surprisingly potent. "Um, yeah. Well, I did have the chance to catch up with some old friends while I was home. Well, I guess it's not really home anymore, is it?"

"What do you mean?" Wilson asked.

"Just that I sold the house," Chase shrugged. He called the waitress over and ordered another round of drinks, even though he hadn't finished his first yet. Wilson had, and the sooner, he got the man drunk, the sooner he could get out of there and get fucked by House. "There was no reason to keep it once dad was gone. He never remarried after divorcing his second wife, so it wasn't like his widow was living there. Anyway, there's nothing really tying me to Australia anymore. Nothing but memories."

"Sometimes memories are enough," Wilson said.

Chase snorted. "Memories are never enough. Sometimes we need to believe that they are enough to shield ourselves against a painful reality. But memories are never anything more than brief visions of the past that are completely irrelevant to the present."

"You sound like House," Wilson said. He was working on his second Zombie now and Chase noticed that his posture was already beginning to slump. "He's always insisting that his past doesn't matter. I know it does, though. His dad was a bastard. That affects who you are long after you are out of his house and on your own. Your dad was a bastard too."

Chase grinned. This wasn't as hard as he thought it might be. "Not as bad as I made him in my mind. He was as lost as I was. He didn't know how to make things work. So he left. I stayed behind. It was my choice, though it didn't feel like I had much of a choice at the time. I believed someone had to take care of my mother. He couldn't do it, so I did. We both made choices."

"You forgave him," Wilson said.

"And he forgave me," Chase replied. "I hurt him as much as he hurt me. He was a shitty father, but not because he was a bastard. He was a shitty father because he didn't know how to be one. He was an okay friend in the end."

"So you really aren't brooding and miserable?" Wilson asked. Chase almost laughed at the disappointment he heard in the other man's voice.

"Should I be?"

Wilson frowned. "No. I guess not. You should get me another one of these lovely drinks."

Chase did laugh then. "Just one more. Then I think we should get you home." He might even be early enough to go to House.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

Chase really wasn't sure how it happened. One minute he was helping a very drunk Wilson into his hotel suite and the next he was pressed against the wall as Wilson attempted to devour him. He had never thought of Wilson as an aggressive lover, but the man was being quite aggressive now. Chase pushed at him until the older man backed off a bit.

"Are you sure that you want this?" Chase asked. He wondered how House would take this news.

"I want you to fuck me," Wilson said. He was obviously drunk, but not so drunk that Chase felt guilty about taking him up on the offer. So when Wilson began dragging Chase towards the bedroom, the younger man didn't fight him. Their clothes disappeared along the way so that they were both completely naked by the time they reached Wilson's bed. Wilson broke their kiss and looked at Chase with undisguised lust. "I want your cock inside me. I want to ride you until I can't take any more and then I want you to fuck me so hard I can feel you for a week."

"If you insist," Chase agreed readily as he let Wilson pushed him over onto the bed. House had never let Chase fuck him. He always had to be in control. Once Wilson's body was aligned with his own, however, Chase forgot all about House and any other misgivings he might have and went where Wilson wanted to take him.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

What transpired the next morning would have been humorous if it hadn't been so pathetic. Much like the morning Chase had woken up in House's bed for the first time, he was awoken that morning by Wilson sitting straight up in bed with a look of sheer terror on his face.

"Oh my god!" Wilson gasped as quietly as he could.

"There's no reason to panic," Chase said calmly. He had to force himself not to smirk as he replayed the conversation with House again. He was sitting up now, searching for his clothes, which had been scattered around the bed and through the suite. "I'll not tell anyone. And we don't ever have to talk about it again if you don't want. But if you want to do it again, I'd definitely be up for that."

"No one can know!" Wilson said. "Especially not House. I've… I've never told him that I…"

"That you like having a hot hard cock up your arse?" Chase asked, he really was smirking now. "Don't worry. House will never hear it from my lips." He had found most of his clothes and was putting them on while Wilson followed him into the other room with the bed sheet wrapped around his waist. "It's your story to tell, or not. I think you'd be surprised by how understanding House can be at times, though. He knows about me and hasn't been horrible about it."

Wilson shook his head. "No. I can't tell him. It's not the same. He's never shared a bed with you. He'd freak out and then I'd lose him."

"If you say so mate," Chase said indifferently. "I still say you're wrong, but have it your way. Your secret is safe with me."

Wilson nodded and the tension that had been in his body since waking seeped out of him. "Thanks. I… I would be interested in doing this again sometime. It's hard to find partners I can trust, and I hate the quick nameless fucks you get in the bars."

Chase smiled as he shrugged on his jacket. "Sure. Just let me know when and where."

Wilson leaned forward and kissed Chase for the first time since waking. It was tender and sweet in a way that kisses from House never were. Then again, kisses from House were always hot and passionate. Chase pulled away and left with Wilson standing in the doorway watching him walk away.


	4. Part Three: Chase

**Part Three: Chase**

_**August 2005**_

House swore for the tenth time since entering his office. He couldn't believe that Stacy was here to stay. It was one thing for him to treat her husband when he thought he would never have to see either of them again. It was another thing entirely to know he would have to see her everyday as she invaded his life. This was totally unacceptable.

And to top it all off, his favorite form of stress relief wasn't as forthcoming as he had once been. Ever since he had returned from Australia three months before, Chase was busy more often than he used to be. House knew that the other man had found another fuck buddy, but it was peculiar that the younger man wouldn't tell him anything about this new friend. They had always talked about both their dates and their fucks. It was one of the things House enjoyed most about their friendship: the complete and utter honesty. Now, Chase was hiding things.

House needed to get laid. Barring that, he needed to get drunk. He knew that the first option was out. It was Tuesday. Chase always spent Tuesdays with his mystery fuck. Which left getting drunk. House thought of calling Wilson for company, but decided that he would prefer to be alone in his misery. He grabbed his backpack and headed out the door.

Three hours and many drinks later, House was drunk enough to not care about waking Wilson up after midnight. He'd done his solitary brooding and now he wanted company. Chase was occupied, so House took a cab to Wilson's hotel. He paid the driver and limped into the hotel. The night air had done much to sober him up, but House was sure that Wilson would have scotch. He always had scotch. House preferred bourbon, but he'd make do.

Up the elevator and down the hall, and he was soon knocking at Wilson's door. It was funny how he always seemed to end up at this hotel when his marriages ended. House couldn't understand the appeal. Well, there was the fact that a maid came in to clean your room everyday, but other than that….

"House?" Wilson said as he swung the door open. "This is not a good time."

House paid no attention to his friend and pushed way into the suite and started looking for the scotch. "I know it's late, but you weren't asleep or you wouldn't have answered the door."

"Then you would have just barged in anyway," Wilson sighed. "What do you want?"

"Booze," House said even as he found the bottle tucked away in the back of the kitchenette's cabinet. "Aha! And it's bourbon! Did you buy this for me?"

"No," Wilson said with a sigh and sat down on the sofa. "This really isn't a good time, House."

House finally took a good look at his friend. He was wearing only his boxers and he had love bites along his neck and collarbone. "Oh! Who is she? Do I know her?"

Wilson turned a deep shade of red and stammered, "N-no. You d-don't know her."

Wilson was lying. House narrowed his eyes at his friend and made a dash for the bedroom. He might have been drunk and crippled, but he was still faster than Wilson. He opened the bedroom door and found…

"Chase?" House asked with no small amount of disbelief. "You're Wilson's new girl? Wait. Wilson's your new fuck buddy?"

Chase shrugged and Wilson looked ill. "I can explain."

House laughed. "This I have to hear."

"It was… I mean… Chase isn't…" Wilson couldn't finish a single sentence.

"That was enlightening," House said with a smirk. He turned to Chase. "Can you do any better?"

"That night he took me out to grill me about my father," Chase said. "I got him drunk like you said. Then I took him home, with the intention of leaving him and seeing if you'd still be awake. He had other plans and I went along with them. He begged me not to tell you, and I've kept my word. I told him you'd be okay with it, but he didn't believe me."

House laughed long and hard with Chase joining in. Wilson, on the other hand, looked livid. "Is my life so humorous? What the fuck is going on?"

House contained his laughter long enough to try and placate his friend. "Chase… Chase and I have been sleeping together for two years now. Pretty much since he started working here."

Wilson's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait. You and Chase have been…"

"Doing what you and Chase have been doing," House finished.

"Well, not exactly the same," Chase said brightly. "There are variations."

House looked intrigued, but Wilson blushed more. "Can we not talk about this?"

House frowned. "Are you really that ashamed of who you are?"

"I'm not sure that shame is the word I would use," Wilson said defensively. "Besides, I don't see you advertising the fact that you and Chase have been fucking for two years."

House had to give him that. "Okay. But I'm not trying to avoid talking about the obvious. We all know what we do and with whom. I think playing the bashful miss is a bit out of place here, Jimmy."

"Fine!" Wilson huffed and flopped down on the end of the bed. "Let's all talk about my sex life."

"Not just yours," Chase corrected.

"So, you were saying?" House prompted. "Variations?"

"Yeah right," Chase said. "Like how it started, for one. I had to chase you down. Wilson practically jumped me."

"Interesting," House said as he looked at his friend, who now had his face covered by his hands. "What else?"

"Passion," Chase said. "Wilson likes it forceful while we're actually doing it, but tends to be more restrained out of bed. Whereas you tend to be forceful in and out of bed."

"Go on," House said.

"And positions—"

"Now that's enough!" Wilson shouted as he finally sat up. "I don't think that's any of House's business."

"He really does have some issues," House told Chase. "I take it he's a bottom boy?"

"All the way," Chase said.

House looked thoughtful. "I guess that solved your desire to top sometimes."

"It was quite convenient in that respect," Chase agreed.

"Will you two stop!" Wilson shouted. He stood up and began pacing. "What I prefer in bed should not be a public conversation topic."

"Are you ashamed that you like cock up your arse," Chase asked. He got out of the bed, not bothering to cover his nudity. Both men had seen him naked many times. "Because I happen to like taking it up the arse as much as I like giving it. Does that make you think less of me, Wilson? Does that make me less of a man in your eyes?"

Wilson looked uncertain. "No. Of course not." But he didn't sound convinced.

"You really are fucked up," House said. "How long have you been hiding this?"

Wilson looked like a trapped animal. "None of your business."

"Since Julie?" House asked. "Before her? Before Bonnie? Before Sam? How long?"

"Always," Wilson admitted with a hoarse whisper. "Always."

"No wonder your marriages never worked," House said. "Jesus Jimmy. You can't let society or some messed up homophobia keep you from being who you are. It only hurts you and everyone around you."

"You haven't come out either," Wilson said, trying to get the focus off of himself.

"I've only ever been with Chase," House said. "I'd say that I'm bi. And I haven't come out because this thing between Chase and I isn't serious. If it were, I'd have told everyone. As it is, it isn't anyone's business. I don't announce every time I get laid and I certainly don't tell who my partner was."

"You say that, but I think that's just a convenient excuse," Wilson said.

House turned to Chase. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all," Chase said. "Most people know I'm bi."

House nodded and picked up his cell phone. He dialed and turned on the speaker phone. A minute later, Cameron answered sounding groggy. "House? It's after one in the morning!"

"Sorry," House told her. "I just wanted to let you know that I've been boffing Chase for the last two years."

"Excuse me?" Cameron said sounding a little more awake this time.

"I said I've been boffing Chase for two years," House repeated.

There was silence for a minute. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I was accused of being afraid to come out," House said. "So I'm proving that's bullshit."

"Goodnight House," Cameron said with exasperation and hung up the phone.

House smirked and then dialed another number. They repeated the process with Foreman, though he had a few swearwords for House before he hung up. Before he could dial Cuddy, however, Wilson stopped him.

"Fine." Wilson sighed and sat down on the bed. "I get it. You aren't ashamed."

"And there is no reason for you to be either," House insisted as he sat down beside his friend. "There is nothing wrong with wanting a man in your bed. It doesn't make you weird or perverse. It isn't a sin against god or humanity. It's just the way your genetic code is configured."

Wilson snorted. "If you buy into the whole gay gene theory. Okay. I get the point. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell everyone yet, but I can see why I shouldn't feel ashamed."

"Listen," Chase said as he gathered his clothes. "I'm going to let you blokes work this out. I'll see you both at work tomorrow."

"You don't have to leave," House said.

Chase looked back and forth between the two who had been gravitating towards each other for a while now, even if they didn't realize it. "Yeah, I think I do."

It only took a moment for Chase to dress and make his exit. This left House and Wilson sitting with their arms and legs touching and an uneasy silence fell over them.

"Um, maybe I should get dressed," Wilson said, though he didn't make a move to get up.

"I think you're fine the way you are," House told him.

"Really?" Wilson asked. There was hopefulness in his eyes that House felt echo in his heart.

"Yeah. I think you're almost perfect just the way you are."

"I think you're pretty perfect too," Wilson said shyly. "It's getting late. Maybe we should…."

"You don't mind?" House asked. "I could get a cab home."

Wilson chuckled darkly. "You've never had a problem crashing here before. Are things changing between us already?"

House stared at his best friend. "Yes, they are." And then he leaned over and kissed Wilson.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

_**November 2005**_

Stacy walked into House's office and looked around. He wasn't there, but she decided to use the opportunity to see if she could find out what was going on with her former lover. When she'd first come to the hospital, House had gone out of his way to torment her. But over the last couple months, that had stopped. In fact, Greg rarely even acknowledged her. It wasn't that he ignored her; just that her presence didn't seem to affect him at all any more. It was strange. She didn't want him back in her life, but at the same time, she didn't want him to be completely over her either. She liked knowing that she was the only person who had held his heart, even if only for a short time.

The office seemed to be exactly the same as it was every time she had come in here. The TV was in the same place. Greg's red tennis ball was sitting on the desk. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. It had been a long shot, Stacy admitted to herself. House wasn't likely to advertise any changes he might have experienced. In fact, he'd be the type to simply ignore them until forced to confront them.

Stacy sighed and walked out to the balcony. She had thought that working at PPTH would be easy. She loved her husband. She wanted to be with him. But some part of her would always belong to Greg. Some part of her would always regret the choices she had made in the name of love. Her fear had cost her the man she loved. And she now knew that she would always love him.

The sun was beginning to set and the November air was chilly, so Stacy turned to go back inside. She paused, however, as movement in Wilson's office caught her eye. She had to lean over the rail between the two balconies to get a clear view, but when she did she saw where House had disappeared to. Figures. House had always put more energy into his relationship with Wilson than he had with anyone else, including her. Wilson was leaning against his desk while House stood only a few feet away. They were laughing about something. And then House stepped forward into Wilson's personal space. Stacy frowned at she watched House's eyes darken. Then he was leaning forward and capturing Wilson's lips in a fiercely passionate kiss.

Stacy pulled away from the rail and stumbled back through the balcony door. She picked up the files she had carried with her and rushed from the office. She never noticed that Chase was in the conference room, or that he had seen the tears falling from her eyes.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

Chase mulled over what he had seen for two days while he watched Stacy brood and cast long looks at House and Wilson. He finally decided he needed to do something. It wasn't really any of his business, but he felt a little proprietary over the relationship between his former lovers. He had been the catalyst that had finally brought them together, and he felt like he needed to protect the budding romance. He found Stacy in her office just staring out the window, lost in thought. Chase had a pretty good idea what she was contemplating. He closed the door quietly behind himself and leaned against it.

"They are happy together," Chase said casually, causing the woman to turn around quickly in surprise. "I'd like to see that they stay that way. So if you have any thoughts of stirring up trouble, know that you'll have to go through me first."

Stacy didn't pretend not to understand. "What is it to you? Why does it matter what I do?"

"Because they are my friends and I care for them," Chase shrugged. "And if you care for either of them at all, you will leave them be."

"I do care for both of them," Stacy said and turned back to stare out the window. "But I can't believe that… this… can make them happy. It's not right."

"Because they're both men?" Chase asked with no small measure of contempt. "Or because you've slept with them both? Afraid that it reflects on your desirability?"

"Of course not," Stacy snapped as she turned and stalked forward in a menacing manner. "I'm not a bigot. And how do you know I… Did James tell you that?"

"No," Chase smirked. "In fact, I doubt Wilson knows that I know. I doubt he knows that House knows. But House is the one who told me."

Stacy paled. "He knew? But Wilson…"

Chase snorted. "He could have forgiven the affair. He did forgive Wilson. He couldn't forgive your lack of concern for his wishes in regards to his health and body. What you tried to do was tantamount to rape. You stole control of his body away from him and wanted to do things to it against his will. That he couldn't forgive. But that's not the point here."

"Then what is?" Stacy asked defensively. She had never considered what she had done a violation, at least not in the terms that Chase was using. Perhaps his comparison was a bit harsh, but there was a grain of truth as well.

"The point is, they are happy together," Chase said. "And you don't have the right to interfere with their happiness. If you care at all for either of them, you'll leave them be. Let them love and be loved."

Stacy stared at Chase and then turned to stare out the window again. He voice, when she spoke again, was softer. "I won't interfere. Believe it or not, I want them to be happy. Both of them. Can you tell me something though?"

"It depends," Chase said with a shrug and took a seat across the desk from her. "What's the question?"

"How did… how did this happen?" Stacy asked. "I mean, I knew Greg better than anyone. I know he had never… not with a man."

Chase chuckled. "That's my fault really. I seduced him."

Stacy was shocked into looking at Chase. "You seduced him? But…"

"It was about a month after I started working here," Chase explained. "We went out for drinks after work and both got pretty drunk. I told him I was bi and the discussion started from there. He walked away, but I followed him into the bathroom and kissed him. Things went from there. He was a bit freaked out in the morning, but not enough to not do it again. We had a casual affair for about two years before he and Wilson became exclusive."

"And how did that happen?" Stacy asked.

"My fault again, really," Chase said sheepishly. "House and I were never exclusive. We both dated and slept with other people. We were just friends with benefits. Anyway, after my father died, Wilson took me out for drinks and got pretty drunk. I escorted him back to his hotel intending to put him to bed, but when we arrived, he… made advances. We ended up with a similar arrangement to the one I had with House. I wanted to tell both of them, but they had both made me swear not to tell anyone, especially each other. It might have gone on like that indefinitely, but one night, House showed up at the hotel while I was there and the secret was out. It became pretty obvious to me right away that I was just a substitute for both men so I left and let them work things out for themselves. They've been together since."

Stacy nodded. It sounded so much like the unique brand of insanity to which House usually subscribed. "Do they love each other?"

"They haven't told me," Chase said. "But I think it's pretty obvious that they do. When you know what to look for, that is."

"I suppose you're right," Stacy sighed. "I've spent the last few days just watching and… Yeah, I can see it."

"So what are you going to do?" Chase asked.

Stacy sighed and looked back out the window. "I'm going to work until my husband is well enough to go home and then I'll leave."

"And House?"

"I'll leave him be," Stacy said. Then she turned a wry smile to Chase. "Just try and keep him from being too much of an ass in the meantime, will you?"

"Don't think that's possible," Chase said with a smirk.

He left and Stacy went back to staring out the window.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

_**January 2006**_

House lay in bed, propped up against the headboard with numerous pillows under his back and Wilson's head resting on his shoulder. "Stacy's gone."

"I know," Wilson said. "She stopped into my office today to say goodbye. Are you sorry to see her go?"

"In a way," House said. "I never thought I'd be able to forgive her for what she did, but…"

"But you have," Wilson said.

"Yeah," House agreed.

Wilson was quiet for a minute. "Do you wish she was here with you instead?"

"What? No! Don't be an idiot," House said vehemently. Then his tone softened. "I don't want her back. I love you, you moron."

"Love you too, ass," Wilson said.

House snorted. "Think we should do something nice for Chase? He was pretty instrumental in getting us together."

"Like what?" Wilson said warily.

House shrugged. "Get him a guy. Or a girl. He's not picky. Maybe Cameron."

"No," Wilson said. "Absolutely not. He does not deserve to be tortured like that. You said you want to do something _nice_ for him."

House huffed in annoyance. "Fine. Maybe I'll just buy him a new tie."

Wilson laughed. "I'm sure he would appreciate the thought, if not the tie."

House pushed Wilson away and shifted down in the bed. Wilson, undeterred, snuggled up to him as soon as House settled. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, House," Wilson said dutifully.

There was silence in the dark room, broken only by the steady breathing of the two men as they drifted off to sleep.

**GHGHGHGHGH**

Across town, Chase was at the infamous bar that had led to his relationship with both House and Wilson. The bartender—witness to both evenings—came up to him and smiled. He was tall and brunet and about five years Chase's junior. He was also built like a Greek god.

"Can I get you a Zombie?" He asked with a smirk.

"Just a double bourbon straight up tonight," Chase said with a flirty smile. "And maybe your phone number."

"Coming right up," the bartender said and walked away. When he returned, he handed Chase the drink and a napkin with ten digits and a name written on it.

"I love this place," Chase said to no one in particular.

**The End**

**A/N:** Well, that's the end of another House adventure. I'm totally in love with House and Chase together but I seem to end up writing House with Wilson more often. Oh well! Thanks for reading. Until next time Ducklings! Jules


End file.
